Case (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
case) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomsecrets2014-03-04 06:32 pm
case) wrote in fandomsecrets2014-03-04 06:32 pm
[ SECRET POST #2618 ]
⌈ Secret Post #2618 ⌋
Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.
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Notes:
Secrets Left to Post: 02 pages, 039 secrets from Secret Submission Post #374.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.
Share your drawerfic/WIPS.
(Anonymous) 2014-03-05 12:49 am (UTC)(link)Re: Share your drawerfic/WIPS.
(Anonymous) 2014-03-05 12:57 am (UTC)(link)There’s a man in the bathroom, bent over the sink. His hair is unevenly wet, large drops of water are falling from the tips of bangs back down into the bowl of the sink. There are soap bubbles, catching the light in pinks and blues, above his ear. He’s got a toothbrush clenched between his teeth, white foam on his lips while he scrubs at the ragged beard on his cheeks with both hands. His eyes are squeezed shut. His clothes are ragged and layered, they still don’t look heavy enough for the chill outside. His shoes are mismatched. One has a hole large enough that Dean can see his sock through it. Dean takes him in with two quick blinks and then clears his throat, and, aiming for a tone that conveys who-are-you-and-what-are-you-doing-in-my-bathroom, says, “Hey.”
The man startles in a way Dean is too familiar with. His eyes snap open and over to Dean, blood-shot, blue, surrounded by dark bags. Déjà vu hits Dean across the back of his head, a flash of memory, or, no, it must be vivid dream. Blue eyes, staring down at him, a hand, burning hot on his icy shoulder, a rasp of voice, “—this one’s al—”. Dean shakes himself back into the moment, watching the man’s nostrils flare. Watching him yank the toothbrush out of his mouth and drop into half a crouch, hands out away from his body, tensed. He looks like he’s ready to brawl, or run, and then he blinks.
The man’s eyes open huge and his mouth gapes to match it. He rakes his gaze up and down Dean, lingers over his arm, his shoulder, the way people do, someday Dean will get used to it. If there was color in his face, it drains away. His hands drop and his knees straighten and he says, “It’s you,” in a voice that sounds like maybe he’s been gargling with whiskey nonstop for a couple of years.
Dean grimaces. He can’t help it. This is exactly why he didn’t want to go on some stupid talk show, he should never have allowed Charlie to talk him into it, but she’s a persuasive little shit and she was right about the donations. They’ve gone through the roof since he whored himself out on primetime. The amount of people that want to grab him and gush like they fucking know him has, unfortunately, increased in equal measure. He grumbles, “Yeah, surprise, probably not what you imagined when you broke into my shop.”
“The lights were on and the door wasn’t locked.” The words spring forth too quickly, like they’ve been prepared, like the guy was holding them on the tip of his tongue, just in case someone stumbled upon him. He startles at the sound of his own voice, blinks and visibly collects himself. “I mean. I didn’t intend to—I wasn’t trying to break in. I knocked. I just wanted—I thought, since you had no customers—I could just—” A giant dollop of soap falls off of his chin and lands on his shoe, and the guy cuts off with a frustrated, humiliated little sound, fumbling forward to turn the sink off and reaching for a wad of paper towels.
“I’m sorry,” his gaze darts up to Dean’s face, and then away, and there’s too much in his expression, exhaustion and hunger and fear and anger and Dean knows it all, knows it too well, it makes his guts twist up so hard that he almost doesn’t catch the guy mumbling, “I’ll just—I’ll get out of your hair, I’m—”
“Hey, hey, whoa, slow down.” The guy pays Dean no mind, scrubbing the paper towels over his face and back across his hair, leaving behind streaks of pink skin and grime. His hands are battered and too thin. The word is gaunt, Dean thinks, and the space up under his ribs aches, it feels squeezed tight and raw. Dean has to remind himself to take deep, slow breaths, he balls his right hand into a fist and is grateful that the left doesn’t shake, can’t shake, not anymore. He says, ignoring what it costs him to keep his voice steady, “Stop, I wasn’t, I’m not throwing you out, man.”
Re: Share your drawerfic/WIPS.
(Anonymous) 2014-03-05 01:59 am (UTC)(link)The door that Wade’s directions led them to was alone in a stretch of corridor, indicating a large room behind it. Aside from that it was completely ordinary, but if Ron strained he could her Drakken’s voice behind it. Kim caught his eye and nodded, indicating that she heard it too. She grabbed the knob and threw the door open. “Hold it right there, Drakken!”
It was a large room, a living room dominated by a picture window that covered one whole wall and looked out over the bay. There was a couch facing the window, with Drakken stretched across half of it and Shego leaning back against his chest. His arms were around her stomach, her head was resting on his shoulder, and they were wearing the dopey, contented expressions of two people who were so happy just to be with each other that nothing else mattered.
They looked like an ordinary couple, hiding out from the world and stealing a moment alone. Ron was absolutely certain now that this mission had been a bad idea. “Uh-oh.”
It wasn’t exactly a surprise. Sure, the two of them had been quiet about their relationship since the alien invasion – so quiet that even after almost a year the tabloids hadn’t caught anything more incriminating than Drakken’s arm around Shego’s waist when they were navigating through a crowd or her hand drifting into his when they were on stage – but if they thought they could actually hide it they were crazy. Even the way they yelled at each other when their latest scheme was getting foiled had turned into a kind of flirting. Ron suspected that this wasn’t the first time he and Kim had almost caught them out.
The quiet little scene only lasted for the fraction of a second it took for Shego to register their presence and react. Her eyes widened and then narrowed. She twisted out of Drakken’s embrace and onto her feet with her usual violent grace, dropping into attack position with her hands burning. She was in civilian clothing – a loose green shirt and well-worn jeans – which Ron thought should have made her look less intimidating. It didn’t. So much for this mission being less life-threatening.
“Kim Possible! What the hell are you doing here?”
Drakken’s voice brought even Shego up short. She straightened a little, turning back to look at him. The flame in her hands went out. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear at the kids,” she said mildly.
“It’s justified,” he snarled, coming up to stand behind her. Like Shego, he was dressed in casual clothes, including what looked like a short, open lab coat that was noticeably rumpled where she’d been leaning against it. Unlike Shego, it did make him look less intimidating, but the anger in his face more than made up for it.
“Wasn’t suggesting otherwise.” Shego’s threatening look didn’t change, but all the same she seemed to relax when Drakken got closer, like he was draining some of the tension out of her just by being there.
“‘Kids’?” Ron repeated, indignation replacing his suspicion and confusion.
“It’s better than what I call you when you’re not here.”
“And ‘not here’ is exactly where you should be right now,” Drakken added.
Re: Share your drawerfic/WIPS.
Stoick glared after Alvin as he was dragged off to the Mead Hall, held by half a dozen men and Gobber fetching chains for the man.
As soon as he was gone, he turned to Hiccup, who was frozen save for his eyes following Alvin’s path, gripping onto Toothless’ saddle. The dragon was tense and growling lowly at the retreating Outcast, looking for all the world like he wanted to pounce and rip the man to shreds, held back only by the need to support Hiccup.
Stoick could empathize – that was exactly how he felt now.
“Hiccup,” he said carefully. “How are you doing?”
The boy jerked and looked up at Stoick.
“I’m fine,” he lied. “Really. Let’s go see what he wants.”
“What he wants?”
“He came to Berk,” Hiccup said. “He saved Snotlout’s life and brought him back to Berk – there had to be a reason for it.”
Without another word, Hiccup tugged once on Toothless’s saddle to get his attention, then started walking towards the Hall.
Watching his retreating back, Stoick couldn’t help but briefly remember how blood-soaked the back of Hiccup’s shirt had been by the time they rescued him from Alvin.
His skin underneath the shirt had been worse. Hiccup still bore the scars, and probably would for the rest of his life.
He was far too young to be stuck with those scars, to be stuck with a missing leg, for the rest of his life.
With a sigh, Stoick pushed back his memories – of the state of shock Hiccup had been in once they’d gotten him back, of all the cuts and burns and bruises he’d had, of the arduous weeks of physical recovery and the mental recovery ongoing now.
He didn’t miss how Hiccup tensed up every time Stoick picked up a fire-poker to shift a log around.
Stoick pushed all of that away – no matter how much he wanted to, he had to confront Alvin not as Hiccup’s father, but as the chief of Berk.
Re: Share your drawerfic/WIPS.
(Anonymous) 2014-03-05 05:11 am (UTC)(link)"C'mere, Sally."
Soldier grapped Medic's shoulders in a bruising grip, closed his eyes, and crushed his mouth against Medic's. It took a moment before the pain of the collision gave way to a more pleasant pressure. Truth be told, it was far from the best kiss Medic had ever gotten, but it was certainly among the more enthusiastic. Besides, who was Medic to argue against a little pain?
After a couple moments during which it became clear that Soldier had no idea what to do besides continue to attempt to press forward, Medic put his hand to Soldier's cheek and, with more force than one would think should really be necessary to disengage a kiss, pushed their faces apart. He huffed out an amused breath at the way Soldier's face was still screwed up and lips puckered. Soldier blinked open his eyes at that and his expression turned to one of wary confusion.
Medic smirked and stroked Soldier's cheek with his thumb. "Well well, what brought this on?"
Apparently assured by this that his advances were not unwelcome, Soldier straighted and put on a cocky smile. "Because! I am a hero. And the hero always gets the girl in the end!"
Medic froze, scowling, and wrenched himself out of Soldier's grip.
"What? What's wrong?" asked Soldier, bewildered.
"Look, Herr Soldat, I have dismissed your ridiculous nicknames for me as just one of your many... quirks, shall we say. But you cannot seriously believe I am a woman?"
"Shhhh!" Soldier put a finger to Medic's lips and glanced around behind them. He leaned in to whisper into Medic's ear, "It's camoflague. I know you're a man! But I don't want them to know that."
"Them."
"Yes, them! Listen. I'm telling you this in the strictest confidence: There is a vast global conspiracy afoot, and it has even infiltrated this great land we call America! That is the reason for the deception. I can't let them know that I'm onto them. Not until I'm prepared to strike!"
"And this has what to do with you calling me 'Sally'?" Medic asked impatiently.
"Keep it down!" Soldier growled, and then dropped his voice again. "I was getting there. You didn't let me finish. I have to make sure you understand the gravity of this situation, because this conspiracy is particularly insidious. ...They want us men to go after women. They don't want us to realize..." Soldier scanned the room again and then leaned in even closer, so close that his lips brushed Medic's ear as he whispered. "...that with two men, it's twice as manly."
Re: Share your drawerfic/WIPS.
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The two cousins continued chatting for a good remaining portion of the evening, inviting new people over and waving hello to others as the ebb and flow of the crowd saw fit. Anna excused herself at one point to grab some chocolate cake that'd been rolled out, bumped into her aunt who was as regal and soft-spoken as always, and promptly got swept up into their - now usual - conversation about how she was looking more and more like her mother.
"Honestly, I think Elsa looks more like her than I ever did, but thank-"
"Ahem!"
The two women turned to see a rather nervous and harried looking servant clutching a small strip of paper.
"Yes?" the Queen of Corona asked.
"May I speak to your majesty? Alone please?"
The Queen frowned.
"Anna, dear," she said, placing one of her hands lightly under her niece's. "Hopefully this should only take a second. Would you mind waiting here?"
"Umm, not at all."
The two swept out through a side door Anna hadn't even noticed until then. She was still standing there, holding her uneaten piece of cake, when Rapunzel pushed her way through the crowd again with Eugene now in tow.
"What happened? I saw mother just leave."
"I'm not sure; a servant interrupted us. I think he was holding some kind of message. It must've been extremely urgent."
"You're probably right," Rapunzel said, her tone optimistic but her face creasing with worry. "For her to leave like that though… it can't be a good message."
There was a period of tense silence.
"Uh… hi by the way," Eugene said, with a little wave to Anna.
"Oh, yes! Hi."
With nothing else coming to mind, the three fell into silence once more.
Finally, the Queen re-emerged, her face markedly paler than it'd been just a few minutes ago.
"Mother!" Rapunzel cried. "What-"
"Not right now," she said with a smile and one eye locked on the sea of guests. "It will cause a scene."
Rapunzel's eyes were wide, but she slowly nodded. Then the Queen turned to Anna.
"You on the other hand. Peter, the man you just saw, is waiting in the room beyond that door. I need you to go and hear him out."
"Anna?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you'll understand as soon as you hear it. We'll be back as soon as our absence can go unnoticed."
With a sweep of her arm, she scooped Rapunzel into her arms and herded her away. Eugene followed with a sympathetic shrug.
Anna was alone once more.
With her cake.
Feeling as though she was about to need the energy boost, she gobbled down as much as she could in one go. Placing the rest on a table full of similarly half-eaten dishes, Anna took a deep breath and walked through the door.